“Okay, baby? Did I hurt you?”
“The opposite,” she replied. “That was incredible.”
“I didn’t plan—”
She cut me off. “I know. Now stop ruining the moment and just hold me.”
I nipped on her lobe playfully. “I’m still inside you.”
“And what are you going to do about that?”
I laughed. “Another challenge, Ms. Wells?”
“You up to it?”
I nudged her. “What do you think?”
She wiggled her ass against me. “I guess we’ll find out.”
I pressed her flush to me. “Yes. Yes, you will.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tally
I stepped from the shower, wrapping a towel around myself. At the vanity, I wiped off the condensation on the mirror, studying my reflection. The bruises were out, livid and dark on my neck and upper arms. My shoulders wore welts and more bruises, and they ached. Yet, despite my appearance, I felt relaxed and at ease.
Amazing, toe-curling orgasms did that for a girl.
As if he knew I was thinking of him, Julian appeared behind me. His gaze took in my injuries, and he dropped his head to my shoulder, kissing the marks. Then he met my gaze. “They’ll fade.”
“I know.”
“I’ll kiss them every day.”
I lifted one eyebrow. “You think you’ll have access every day, buddy?”
He leaned on the vanity, caging me between his arms. He pressed close, his breath ghosting over my skin as he kissed my neck, carefully sliding his hand into my hair to tilt my head for better access.
He skimmed his hands up my sides, his touch light, yet possessive. He skated his long fingers over the fold in the towel, tugging and loosening the cotton. He cupped my breasts, lifting and fondling the heavy mounds, then tweaked my nipples, the already hard buds becoming a focal point of pleasure as he caressed and played with them.
“If you weren’t hurt, I’d fuck you right here,” he breathed. “Prove my access.”
“Your touch doesn’t hurt,” I moaned, ignoring the pull as I reached up my arms and gripped his neck. “You would never hurt me.”
“Jesus,” he muttered, meeting my eyes. “Don’t tempt me, Tally.”
I pressed back, feeling his erection.
“Please,” I whispered. “You make it all go away.”
He dropped his head back to my shoulder, sliding his hand back down my leg. He lifted it to the vanity and slid his fingers to my center. I let my head fall to his shoulder as he stroked me, pushing one finger inside. He groaned low in his throat.
“You’re so wet. You want me.”
“Yes.”
“Right here?”
“Yes.”
A moment later, he was inside me, his hand splayed across my hips as he drove into me. I had to rise up on my toes, whimpering in pleasure as he filled me.
“Watch yourself. Watch how you look when I’m inside you,” he ordered. “How much you love my cock. How well you take it.”
I stared at our reflection as he moved. One hand holding me close, the other plucking at my erect nipples, going from one to the other. The way his eyes watched us as I absorbed his thrusts, my body swaying in sync with his like a tree bending to the wrath of a windstorm. His eyes were glittering in the light, the gold vivid against the swirls of green and brown. They were focused on our image, turning him on even more. He gripped me a little tighter, picking up the pace, making me gasp as he hit a place inside me I never knew existed. He dropped his other hand back to my clit, circling it and ratcheting up the pleasure.
Everything faded away. Nothing hurt, nothing ached. There was only him. The feel of his touch, the sensation of his skin on mine. His hot breath on my neck, his muttered curses and dirty words. The way he was transfixed on our reflection. On watching me watch us. I turned my head, and he caught my mouth—demanding and hard, his tongue twisting with mine. He became faster, almost frantic, holding me hard against him.
“Watch me come inside you. Watch how beautiful you are when you orgasm,” he demanded, turning my head. His eyes went dark, narrowed with pleasure as he groaned. Fire raced down my spine, exploding and carrying me away. I cried out his name, the sound echoing off the tiles. I clutched his neck, holding on to him, desperately needing him to ground me.
He rode me until he was done. Until I was sated, the last of my orgasm trembling tendrils that shook me. He wrapped his arms around me, kissing my damp skin. I met his eyes, the fire now a low, banked flame.
“We both need another shower,” he murmured.
He pulled my leg off the vanity, rubbing at the skin. “Okay, baby?”
“Yes.”
He kissed my shoulder. “I knew you were going to be trouble.” Then he kissed it again. “The very best kind.”
“What are you reading?” I asked.
Julian glanced up from his book. “Beating up Bikers for Dummies. It helped a lot.”